


Welcome Home

by alynwa



Series: PWPs [1]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:00:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23764243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynwa/pseuds/alynwa
Series: PWPs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1857196
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	Welcome Home

Napoleon put his key in the lock of his penthouse, stepped inside and reset the alarms. “Illya? Are you home?”

“In the living room!” came the answer. “Bring me a glass of vodka, would you?”

Slightly miffed, Napoleon muttered, “I live to serve” before hanging his coat in the closet. Entering the kitchen, he grabbed two glasses from the cabinet, pulled the Stolichnaya from the freezer and an ice tray. He poured three fingers’ worth of vodka in one glass, placed ice cubes in the other, returned the items to the freezer and went into the living room where his former field partner and current life partner sat, book in hand and horn – rimmed glasses on face, in one of the easy chairs. Napoleon held out the glass which Illya took before drinking down nearly half the contents.

Dropping his book into his lap, he grabbed Napoleon’s arm with his now free hand and tugged gently so that he could claim a quick kiss. “How was the Summit meeting?” he asked, still not letting go of Napoleon’s arm.

“Productive, but tiresome. I actually found myself wishing you and I were still in the field. Section One is fine and I’m glad you head up Section Eight, but sometimes…”

Illya drained his glass, put it on the side table and then plucked Napoleon’s glass from his hand and placed it next to his own. “I found myself wishing for something too, Napasha.”

“What?”

“This.” Illya pulled his man closer, reached for Napoleon’s zipper and pulled it down gently. Reaching inside, his fingers came into contact with his partner’s boxer shorts. “You really do enjoy silk, my love.” He stroked the dark pubic hair for a moment before gently pulling his lover’s quickly burgeoning erection into view. He removed his glasses, then leaned forward to suck Napoleon into his mouth.

The heat of Illya’s mouth almost buckled Napoleon’s knees, but he caught himself by placing his hands on the Russian’s shoulders. Surprised, he can’t quite get himself under control and Illya is not helping, running his tongue across the slit and thrusting it along the underside of Napoleon’s penis. “I can’t last much longer,” he managed to gasp.

Seamlessly, Illya moved Napoleon back so he can rise from the chair and turn; thereby allowing Napoleon to sit while never once taking his mouth off his prize and sinking to his knees to maintain the connection. Knowing that his partner is no longer in danger of falling, he began licking and sucking harder and faster.

Napoleon’s orgasm ripped through him, causing him to open his mouth in a soundless scream as he arched up from the chair, followed by sobbing groans until Illya sucks him dry. Just as the sensation is about to move from pleasure to pain, he feels himself slip from his lover’s mouth. He is momentarily cold as the air hits him before he is carefully tucked back into his pants.

He keeps his eyes closed as his heart pounds in his ears. He can hear Illya get up and walk away. He hears a cabinet door opening and liquid being poured. He opens his eyes when he feels a cold glass touch his face. “Thank you,” he says before taking a deep swallow of the Scotch. When he is capable of speech he says, “I need to go away more often if this is going to be my welcome home.”

Illya smiled. “Next week, I have to go to Los Angeles for a Section Eight conference, remember? I will be gone for three nights.”

“And would you like a homecoming celebration like I got?”

The Russian’s smile changed into a leer. “Surprise me.”


End file.
